


Game

by gala_apples



Category: Askewniverse, Bandom, Cobra Starship, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Closeted Character, Dubious Consent, Gay Chicken, M/M, Marijuana, offensive language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:46:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone reacts differently to having a repressed gay friend. Gabe and Mikey decide to play gay chicken with theirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game

Gabe slumps down beside Mikey on the couch, bowl packed. Etiquette is different in different circles, and Saporta’s not really know for manners, but the pipe is still passed to Mikey first. He lights just the edge of it and inhales as Gabe starts to talk. “So I think my dealer is a fag.” 

Mikey pulls the pipe away and passes it, starting to cough. He’s not a n00b, inhaling too much and nearly gagging. It’s just a side effect of the way he and Gabe imbibe. They buy in large quantities, half ounces, taking turns holding. Even with about four grams lost in shared bowls with friends and co-workers, and in Mikey’s case family, it’s been ten grams of smoking this kind. After that long with one strain, the first inhale of a new strain is always rough. Once he gains control he frowns. “Gerard will punch you if he ever hears you say that.” Mikey doesn’t much like hate speech either, but it won’t make him flip like Gerard will. 

After Gabe’s spluttering cough and subsequent reach for his Slurpee to soothe his throat he answers “What? Oh, fag. It’s not like it’s a bad thing, I’m half fag myself. I’m just saying someone that obsessed with pussy has to be overcompensating.”

“I wanna meet him,” Mikey says some time later. 

“What? Who?” 

“Your girl obsessed gay dealer.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Gabe is nothing if not easy when it comes to making plans. It’s remembering in order to keep them that he’s not as good at. Neither is Mikey. It’s not as much the pot killing their brains as it is insomnia and repetitive jobs making it hard to keep days straight. 

This plan actually happens though. About two weeks later Mikey’s stash -double ziplock bagged and kept in the freezer in a rinsed ice cream pail- is running low, less than a gram bag left. There are two kinds of dealers; the ones that consider it a transaction, and the ones that consider it a sale. From the outside it sounds like petty semantics, when buying they’re very different. Transaction dealers get in, get the money, and get out. No more than five minutes elapsing. Selling dealers consider it an act of camaraderie. Hours go by with a seller, usually with traded Youtube clips, and maybe a movie and a shared first bowl. Mikey’s got half a dozen of each on his contact list, and he’ll buy from whomever answers the text first. Gabe’s more particular. As far as Mikey knows, he only buys from sellers.

Jay and Silent Bob are two such sellers. It’s Gabe’s turn to buy, and so Mikey follows dutifully into the apartment. It’s kind of a hovel, blankets draped all over the walls for no reason Mikey can see. They’re halfway through Bluntman and Chronic, which Mikey’s seen a hundred times, like Pineapple Express, and Dazed and Confused, and a dozen other movies. It’s politically incorrect but true to say stoners demand and get more media representation than black people. Gabe throws himself on the couch without even mentioning picking up, and introduces everyone. Jay mutters something about hello motherfuckers, and Silent Bob holds out his hand for a fist bump. Mikey shrugs a bit before doing the same. Once their knuckles touch, Mikey can sit and watch the stupid comedy once again. Jay explains that the movie was based off of them, and they had to go to Hollywood and demand they fix shit. Mikey believes exactly none of it until he glances at Gabe and gets the _no shit_ look. Even believing it, he’s not awestruck. He’s met actors before. Gerard was very involved with casting Umbrella Academy.

Twenty minutes is all it takes Jay to convince Mikey that Gabe’s right. Not that he knows he’s doing it, of course. He’s aiming so hard for Extremely Goddamn Heterosexual it’s like watching Freddie Mercury or Rock Hudson or Tom Cruise. To be honest, it’s funnier than the movie.

It’s not until they leave the apartment, large bag of weed concealed in Gabe’s Hilroy zip binder that Gabe comes up with one of his more brilliant ideas. “You know what would be fun? Gay chicken with Jay.” 

Mikey doesn’t need to think about it. “Agreed.” Even if they piss him off, he doesn’t seem the kind to have weapons, so there’s no need to be scared about pissing him off. Worse case scenario is Jay kicks them out and refuses to see them again. And in that case he’s still Gabe’s dealer not Mikey’s, so it doesn’t hurt _him_ at all.

“We gotta go on a Tuesday or Thursday though, between five and seven.”

“Why?” That seems really specific to him.

“That’s when Silent Bob is gone. He’s way more likely to agree if he’s got there. Silent Bob’s like his voice of reason.”

“But he’s...silent?”

“He’s the mute voice of his consciousness, trust me dude.”

*

“What do you guys wanna watch? I was in a motherfuckin’ movie, man. Bluntman and Chronic. They based that shit off of us, and then we were in a scene with this asshole Cocknocker. Got fuckin royalties and everything.”

Mikey doesn’t point out that they heard this like three times when they were here last week. He can’t quite manage interest, but he does keep his face flat as Gabe replies to Jay. “ We’re all guys here. What do you _think_ we want to watch? Put on a fuckin’ porn, man.”

Mikey’s watched many combinations of people over the years. This isn’t to his taste. Not because of the ratio of guys to girls; he’s a true equal opportunity fuck, unlike Gabe who claims it but clocks in at about eight women for every two men. Mikey just likes gasps and bitten lips, like the couple or threesome or group is trying to not get caught, and this porn is all really awful dialogue. There’s nothing sexy about _yank my clit_ , but she’s said it about five times already. Worse still, it seems to have encouraged Jay to tell one of his bullshit stories.

“So I was like, I am the clit commander, and he was all-”

It’s the perfect place to interrupt. Mainly because Mikey can’t listen to any more. “You know what I heard? That the head of a guy’s dick has as many nerve endings as a clit.”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah. So we’re basically jerking off our own clits.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.” 

Rather than take Gabe’s word for it, Jay pulls out his dick and jerks it experimentally a few times. It’s then that Mikey gets the sense that this game could work. Jay isn’t exactly having a normal reaction to this conversation. Since he’s not being shy, Mikey doesn’t see the need to be either. Mutual masturbation is the step between watching porn and handjobs.

“Doesn’t make me wail like I make the ladies wail.”

Gabe steps in to explain, “‘Cause you’re doing your own. Loses the hotness.”

“Shit, really?”

“It’s like how you can’t tickle yourself.” He doesn’t follow up with the obvious _let me prove it_ , just goes straight into curling his fist over Jay’s. Evidently his step system is different than Mikey’s.

Mikey’s not Jay’s best friend. That role is filled by a chubby laconic man. He is a good judge of character though, and he’s sure Jay’s never had sex. It’s not just extremely hetero bragging, it’s false experience too. Mikey’d bet high odds on virginity, or close to it. It’s so likely that Mikey’s not concerned for Gabe’s health when he twists to the side and put his mouth on Jay’s dick without getting a condom.

“What the _fuck_ you think you’re doing?”

Gabe doesn’t pull off, trusting Mikey to answer for him. Which he does, with an eye roll accompanying it to set the tone. “Basic question. You like head, or you don’t like head?”

“Who the fuck doesn’t like head?”

“Then shut the fuck up and have head.”

It’s a good argument, as far as he’s concerned. Jay must think so too. He doesn’t push Gabe off of his lap, or even protest more. He just lets Gabe continue to bob his head up and down the length of his cock. He’s even polite about it; a hand curled into his hair, but not forcing his own rhythm. Mikey’s careful to not look to the left as he watching. He keeps his head directly facing the computer screen. Of course he can still see all the action out of his peripheral vision, but Jay doesn’t need to know that.

The stream begins to stall, the circle in the middle of the image claiming buffering. Gabe’s not dumb enough to keep blowing him without visual distraction. He pulls off, clearly relishing the disappointed look on Jay’s face. Mikey can tell, and not just because he’s enjoying this too.

“You don’t gotta stop.” His tone is distinctly pouting. It’s sort of funny. If Mikey was more stoned he’d probably giggle, but they’ve only shared a bong between them, one rip each. Not enough for giggling.

“Put something hot on first.” It would be bad if Jay knew this was all about him. He’s not exactly intelligent, but if he figures out it’s a game he probably won’t want to play.

The next video that Jay clicks into is another one male one female scene. It starts mid-ass fucking, no warm up. She’s squealing, which is a few steps up from horrible dirty talk, although it’s still not all that sexy to him. Remembering Jay’s grunts from a minute ago is a lot better. The clip gives Mikey the perfect opportunity to ask the question that could push the game of chicken further. “So when was the last time you guys did anal?”

Mikey can tell Gabe’s not sure how Mikey wants him to play this, but he goes for enthusiastic. “Too fuckin’ long.”

“I know, right? What I wouldn’t give to plow ass right now. Best kind of fucking.”

Jay looks at him. “You think?”

“You fuckin’ kidding? Anal’s the best sex there is. Don’t tell me you haven’t tried it.”

Behind Jay’s back, Gabe grins. ‘That’s a motherfucking travesty. Takes a certain hot bitch to say yes though. You gotta keep asking until one says yes. Stay focused. Or...Fuck. Screw it. Me and Mikey will toss a coin.”

“Excuse fuckin’ me?”

“It’s not like it’s terrible. Hell, it’s probably better for guys than women. There’s this nerve inside a guy’s ass that’s like instant orgasm. There’s a reason fags are fags, if you know what I’m saying.”

Mikey manages to keep the wince off his face. Better that he doesn’t call Gabe out than Jay thinks he’s lying. They flip a coin pulled from Gabe’s wallet, and Mikey ‘loses’, so he drops to his hands and knees on the filthy carpet. He spits on his fingers a few times, makeshift lube so he can work himself open. There’s no reason to believe Jay would, or could. If he doesn’t know how to finger a girl for sheer pleasure, it’s doubtful he knows how to finger a guy as means to an end. Mikey bottoms almost exclusively when he’s with guys, so he’s not in need of twenty minute prep to relax his body, but he needs _something_ before he can take a cock.

Jay knee-walks up behind him. Mikey doesn’t have to look behind himself to know that Jay’s kept his jeans on, he knows the difference between skin crawling on carpet and denim crawling on carpet. He doesn’t really care. Not every encounter can be full nudity and beds of rose petals. Even if he did initially care, once the head of a dick is against his asshole Mikey finds that most other things stop mattering. Mikey waits for that rocking forward movement, the point of no return. He smiles when he gets it. There’s nothing quite like that moment of first penetration.

The triumph is too soon. An instant later Jay is pulling out, shoving at Mikey’s shoulders for leverage. He stands, dick bobbing free a foot over the waistband of his slouched jeans. Mikey tenses, knowing the gay panic might get ugly. But again, Jay doesn’t get physical, or get hateful. He just throws Mikey’s clothes at him. “The balls touched, man. That’s totally gay. You don’t get gayer than that. Get the fuck dressed and get the _fuck_ out!”

Mikey shrugs at Gabe as he pulls his jeans back on. Every game of chicken has to stop somewhere, otherwise it’s just the second half of truth or dare. The game is over, and they’ve won.


End file.
